A Nightmare Between Friends
by JulesSophia
Summary: Set during the events of ME3, Garrus and Shepard are still just friends. Shepard is concerned when Garrus begins having nightmares. Will this finally push this cross-species friendship into something more? Originally posted on the kinkmeme as a one-shot, but now reworked for expansion into a multi-chapter story. Rated M for risque scenes and some language.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I originally published this on the kinkmeme, which has character limits for each section. I didn't attempt to write full chapters as a result, so please excuse the little scene divisions below. This is my first bit of creative writing and I'd love to have some feedback about it, if anyone would care to leave any!_

_The original one-shot version of this story is now posted as the LAST CHAPTER (I didn't want to upset anyone by deleting it entirely.) My decision to expand the story resulted in my needing to delay some of the "risque content" until later on.  
_

* * *

"Dammit." Shepard swung the barrel of her Paladin around, firing a shot into the skull of a last staggering husk. "Joker? We're ready for that evac anytime now."

"Ha– " staccato bursts of white noise interrupted. "Comman– EDI's offline." Joker's voice broke off into a long hiss of static.

Shepard sighed, pushing her communicator harder against her ear as she waved the all-clear to Garrus. He looked worn, she realized, feeling concern creep into her expression. "Hey, looks like we'll be hanging here for a bit," she shouted over the wind as he drew closer, proceeding to fill him in on the Normandy situation.

"Heh. Well at least we got Victus off safely." Garrus sat down heavily and looked up at the darkening sky.

Shepard's gaze followed, noting the almost indistinguishable area of Palaven that the turian had previously pointed out as his home. It was a wonder she could make it out at all. The whole planet was ablaze.

She knocked his shoulder plate with her armor-clad knee, an attempt to distract them both from the unsettling sight. "Alright soldier, I'm getting windburn. Back to base."

He looked up at her with an unfocused expression.

"Garrus?"

"Not gonna happen Commander." He turned his face into the wind, eyes closing and mandibles flaring as he seemed to sniff the air.

Shepard raised one brow in question, realizing that her skin felt oddly tight as she did so.

"Radiation storm's brewing." Garrus' subvocals were suddenly teasing as he bent to grab his rifle and nodded at Shepard's helmet. "Better put that back on. It's time to find some shelter before that soft human skin of yours gets fried."

She rolled her eyes, but complied – carelessly shoving her shoulder-length hair off her face and tugging her N7 helmet back on. "You turians. We all know you only rag on how soft we are 'cause you're jealous of our _flexibility_." The corner of her mouth twitched up as Garrus' bright blue eyes widened fractionally.

"Never gonna live that one down, huh?"

She gave him a playful punch. "Nope."

– – – – –

They managed to scan for a shielded cave just a few meters east of their location. Already inside, Shepard began unloading her weapons into a neat row. She absentmindedly watched as Garrus squeezed his large form through the small opening, chuckling softly when the collar of his armor wedged for a moment. She forgot just how big he was sometimes, recalling that the last time she'd had such a thought, she'd found herself on the receiving end of a crushing hug – her t-shirt clad torso completely enveloped by blue, and bruising, armor. Garrus had decided to try out "that arm wrap thing you humans do" as they said their farewells just a few months ago, in front of her favorite weapons store on the Citadel.

_You call me if the Alliance requests a character reference." Garrus feigned nonchalance as he continued, "the Shadowbroker tells me Archangel's name carries a lot of weight these days." _

"_I'm not sure the testimony of a vigilante turian would be the __**best**__ defense for me... but thanks Garrus. I appreciate it." She pried herself away from his grasp with a huff. "You might want to tone down the force on that hug just a tad before you go testing it out on any other unsuspecting members of my species. Not all of us have the benefits of a Project Lazarus rebuild." She reached her left hand up to her right shoulder and gave it an exaggerated roll. _

"_No worries Commander." Garrus gave her a wink. "You know, I'm really more of a one human kind of turian." _

_Shepard returned his smile – or rather, his mandible spread – as she turned to walk away, missing the slight tremor of his face plates as he watched her leave. _

"I'm glad you find this predicament so amusing," Garrus said with a pained expression, drawing Shepard's thoughts back to the present. He was still firmly jammed between the rocks the framed the narrow cave opening.

Realizing that she'd broken into a wide grin, Shepard stood with a laugh, brushing silvery dirt from her black and red armor and striding over to assess the situation. She blinked up at him innocently. "Need a hand Vakarian?"

"You're so lucky I can't reach my rifle right now." Garrus took a swipe at her with his free arm as she jumped back with a yelp and a peal of laughter.

"Ok, ok. Stop wiggling. You're making it worse." Shepard put her hands up, in truce. "Like I'd leave you in there all night. Who'd make me dinner?" She gave him a sly smile.

"Shepard." Garrus sighed. "You haven't changed one bit."

She patted his arm comfortingly and smiled into his eyes. "Aw, I missed you too, Garrus."

– – – – –

Garrus' mandibles flared at the intimacy of Shepard's contact. Her gloved hands were currently resting at his waist as she considered how best to pull him free. He swallowed and glanced down at the top of her head. She probably had no idea what this sort of touch would signify in turian culture.

"Ah!" she muttered under her breath as she twisted his torso with a quick jerk.

Garrus suddenly found himself free and staggering forward to balance his weight before he toppled into his commanding officer.

_His commander_. Garrus' chest swelled with pride at the memory of Shepard's invitation to rejoin her on the Normandy just few hours prior. Though it had only been a few months of separation, he, assuming his surprising new role as head of the Reaper Task Force and she, back on Earth, he'd worried at the lack of contact. She didn't write and he'd been too nervous to, thinking she might have resumed her relationship with Alenko and cowardly, preferring to live in ignorance if that were the case. He shook his head slightly as he pushed the thought aside. It was no matter. He and Shepard were friends and nothing more. A few flirtatious conversations did not a romance make.

Unthinkingly, Garrus' pressed his talons to his still lightly scarred face plate, reminding him of the inequity in their physical appearances. She was beautiful. With those indigo eyes and that darkly gleaming fringe, inky as the midnight skies of Palaven, she could have any human she wanted. Hell, she could have quite a pick of turians too. On multiple occasions, Garrus had seen the males of his species glance at the commander's slender waist and blazing eyes. Shepard's anatomy was not unlike that of the asari, and the turians had long been familiar with and appreciative of the exaggerated femininity of their blue curves.

"Phew." Shepard exhaled in long huff. "You as exhausted as I am Vakarian?" She had resumed her position by her weapons and was proceeding to toss her armor, piece by piece, into a heap directly to the right of her sniper rifle.

Garrus couldn't help shaking his head in amusement at the contrast between the precisely laid out weapons and the haphazard pile of her armor. He studied her face momentarily before responding.

"You do look whiter than usual–"

Shepard snorted, laughing. "Thanks... Just what every girl wants to hear. I'll admit, I have been a little neglectful of my tanning schedule."

"Um... what?" Garrus paused, checking the readout of his visor as his translator pulled up information on _tanning_. "Oh..." his voice trailed off as he continued reading. "Wait, your world enslaved people based on their colors?" He looked up in confusion.

She sighed, wiping at the sheen of sweat that had settled across her brow with the back of her hand. "Yeah, not our finest moment. Good thing we hadn't met any asari back then. Considering how worked up we got over shades of brown, who knows what the reaction to blue would have been."

Garrus had pulled off his visor, turning his attention to Shepard as she spoke. His sharp senses focused on her face, noting the lack of pink in her cheeks that he'd become accustomed to, and the slower than usual pounding of her heart. His eyebrow ridges lowered with worry. "I think you overdid it with all that charging. You know, you don't need to take out every husk that approaches the vicinity with your biotics. I may be just a humble sniper but I do have _some_ experience with close range enemies." He shook his head mockingly.

Shepard flashed him a smile. "Yeah, but it's more fun my way. I like to keep things fresh; a little shooting, a little shockwave here and there... Come on Garrus, don't you appreciate the artistry of my combat style?"

He did, actually. Garrus had been captivated with the sight of Shepard in battle from the very beginning. She was fierce and fearless and seemed to have the uncanny ability to be everywhere all at once. Impossibly fast, pulsing blue with biotic energy, and firing shots off with an aim that rivaled his own, the commander reminded him of the ancient turian legends of female war spirits. _Tempests, _they were called, named for their destructiveness and their heartbreaking beauty in combat. In the old tales, they roamed battlefields, weighing the worthiness of wounded soldiers. If you were deemed honorable and true, worthy of their loyalty, the tempest would stay with you – slaying your foes and protecting you from harm.

He wondered, if he were a broken man, how would Shepard judge him?

Garrus' coughed awkwardly, aware that he'd been silent a few moments too long. "Slow heart rate, low body temp, rapid respiration... I'd say you need something to eat."

"You know, years later and it's_ still _creepy when you use your super-predator senses on me." Shepard arranged her face into an expression of mock consternation. "And here I thought I was your friend, not food."

He gave her his best imitation of a grin. "That remains to be seen."

– – – – –

In the end, he made a hearty meal, devouring a dextro-protein pack and watching the human by his side do the same with a nutrition pack of her own. _Nothing like generating your own mass effect fields to stoke the appetite_, Garrus mused, watching as Shepard enthusiastically consumed a biotic sugar booster as a second course. He surreptitiously reevaluated her vitals; her heart sounded steady and well-paced once more.

He sat back, muscles slowly relaxing. He hadn't realized he'd been so tense. Night was falling now, the air cooling rapidly in the fading light, and still no contact from the Normandy. _Might as well make myself comfortable then_, Garrus thought, somewhat nervously unlatching the chest plate of his armor. He didn't think Shepard had ever seen him out of it.

The commander had ordered Joker and Liara to investigate EDI's malfunction and report back as soon as they were capable of rendezvous. However, it looked like that might not be possible until morning. By then, the storm should have passed and Shepard's armor would once more provide sufficient protection from Menae's normal radiation levels. They could return to base and request transport back to the Normandy in a turian shuttle if necessary. He felt anxious to get away. It was selfish to be safely holed up in this crevice of rock while his comrades battled and burned. He stared into the fire blankly, trying desperately not to think about his father and sister. _Spirits save them,_ he hoped they'd gotten off-planet in time.

Garrus pulled off his greaves last, setting them down by the rest of the gear he'd piled opposite to Shepard's. He felt self-conscious in his close-fitting black and silver undersuit, which bared his collar and legs from spurs down. It was foolish really. He'd spent half his life in military barracks and was well used to close-quarters and a lack of privacy. Of course, he'd never been in such a situation with Shepard before.

Seated before their small chemical fire, back braced against the cave wall, her eyes gleamed orange as she intently read off her omnitool's holographic display. Garrus' gaze followed the lines of her body. She was clad in the standard regulation under-clothing that most Alliance soldiers wore beneath their armor and during athletic training sessions. "Underarmor," she'd called it. The formfitting top piece revealed the entirety of her lean arms and the sharp bones that slashed horizontally below the column of her neck. The bottom, ending a short distance below the curve of her backside, hugged her hips. Rather than the black he'd always seen her in before, this underarmor was a cobalt blue, the exact shade of his markings, he realized. A shiver ran through his body. He liked seeing her in his colors; the blue against her skin made it all too easy to imagine that she was his.

Garrus sighed, dropping to the ground and pulling up his omnitool to check for messages before bunking down for the night. The sound of running water echoed from from far off, just barely loud enough for him to detect. It was soothing and he felt his eyelids grow heavy as the gentle trickle lulled him to sleep.

– – – – –

_Falling, dying – they were all around him, crying out as blue blood bubbled grotesquely from their throats and dripped down their mandibles. He pulled his rifle from his back in a smooth, practiced motion, his legs heavy as he lunged forward to help. Faster, faster. The air around him was thick and viscous. He struggled to move against its bulk, unable to draw the dense atmosphere into his lungs. He stilled, calm setting in as he lifted his rifle as he'd done so many times before. His aim was careful and precise as he lined up the shot, a talon on the trigger. Faster, faster. He pulled, squeezing with all his might against metal that would not budge. He couldn't fire. He roared in rage and he stood by helpless, watching. _

– – – – –

Shepard's eyes flew open, pupils slowly adjusting to the warm glow of firelight reflecting off the cave's close walls. She shook her hair out of her eyes as she propped herself up on both elbows, scanning her surroundings; she could have sworn she'd heard something.

Garrus lay to her left, just out of arm's reach. He had shifted towards her during the night and his thermal blanket was now twisted in a complicated tangle around his heavy limbs. She frowned as she watched his chest rise and fall unevenly. _Was that normal?_

He shook his head restlessly and cried out, startling her.

_Guess I'm not the only one having trouble sleeping these days, _Shepard thought grimly, reaching over to shake his arm. "Garrus. Wake up." He thrashed again and with a sharp inhale she snatched her hand back, looking down to see blood welling from a shallow cut along her forearm. Her mouth quirked in amusement. Apparently even a sleeping turian was hazardous.

She did the practical thing and pinned him in a straddle, sitting on his chest and trapping both arms against his sides with her legs. He was mumbling something now, but she couldn't make it out.

"Garrus?" Holding his face with both hands, she patted firmly as she tried to rouse him. He felt like leather and his toughened skin glinted silver and bronze in the flickering light. Perhaps it was odd – she didn't really know as she'd never asked any other humans their opinion on the matter – but she'd found turians fascinating from the first time she'd laid eyes on one. They looked so stoic and statuesque. As if they'd been sculpted from granite and steel. Of course, in Garrus' case, that first impression had dissolved as soon as he'd opened his mouth. She smiled, remembering; beneath that stern exterior, he was pretty damn adorable, what with his stammering awkwardness and teasing humor. Shepard's face sobered as she touched his scarred plate gently, running her thumb automatically over the raised lines. Garrus, she realized, was the closest thing she had to a best friend in this whole galaxy. She wanted to save it for him. Or maybe she wanted so save him, from it.

He tensed suddenly underneath her, eyes opening.

"Hey. Welcome back." Shepard pulled her hands back, suddenly unsure of what to do with them. She eventually settled for placing them at the juncture between his cowl and chest.

His eyes swept her face, blinking in confusion and then, casting downward in embarrassed realization. "I – um... Sorry. I guess I was dreaming."

"No need to apologize. I was just worried. It didn't sound like a fun dream, exactly."

His jaw clenched as she spoke and he turned his face away from her, staring resolutely at the cave wall with trembling mandibles.

She felt her heart sink as she watched him. She knew this feeling – the helpless horror that came after a nightmare. It hurt to see him suffering through it. "Garrus..." Her voice came out soft and throaty, surprising her with the emotion it carried. "Don't. I want to help." Her hands rose to cup his face and pull it back to hers, fingers freezing as they touched wet plate, lips parting slightly in surprise. She'd always wondered if turians could cry.

For a long moment, he lay stiff and unmoving, his fists clenched at his sides. Shepard wondered if she'd upset him further by touching him like this but as she began to pull away she felt his cheek follow her palm, pressing into the curve of her hand of its own accord.

"They were dying. All of them." He whispered, voice hitching. "And I couldn't– " his eyes squeezed shut, as if in pain, "–I couldn't..."

"Shh," she gentled, thumbs stroking his face plates once more. She leaned forward, placing her lips firmly against his forehead as she continued to speak. "It wasn't real." The hard body beneath her shuddered and a feeling of fierce protectiveness shot through her veins as she wrapped her arms tight as she could manage around Garrus' trembling form. "I'm here. I won't let anything happen."

– – – – –

"Shepard– " Garrus' voice muffled as he buried his face in her neck and he reached up, grasping lamely at her soft form for comfort. She felt so good. Warm and safe and a welcome distraction from the sick feeling that had knotted in his stomach as he slept. He felt her hands leave his face – though her lips maintained their pressure at his forehead – and pull his own to her waist, molding them around her. His large hands almost completely encircled her there, a reminder of her delicacy even as he felt the firm strength of her body in her legs, which still squeezed at his sides. For some reason, that detail broke him, and he shook with silent tears as he gave himself over entirely to her protection. She held him tighter as he sobbed into her, only pulling away from him to place a kiss against his scarred plate when his breathing was even once more.

– – – – –

Garrus awoke some time later, sprawled on his stomach and blinking in sleepy contentment at the warmth of the pillow beneath his head. He rubbed his cheek against the softness, a satisfied rumble escaping him. It smelled like her.

_Shepard._ _Menae. Cave._ He froze, awareness flooding him in a cold rush. The commander was spread out beside... and below him. His head rose and fell with her slow, steady breathing – the entire left side of his face pressed to her chest and the top of his fringe tucked tight beneath her chin. His right arm was slung across her body, hugging her torso to him as if she were a piece of bedding, rather than a battle-hardened Spectre. The smooth skin exposed by the low neckline of her clothing felt oddly damp beneath his cheek.

_Shit! Was I drooling on her? _After a moment of sheer panic, he realized that this particular wetness was a result of tears. His breath escaped in a grateful exhale. Crying all over one's commanding officer was about as much embarrassment as he could stomach for the moment.

"Garrus?" She spoke softly, though her voice was steady and alert. Clearly, she had not been asleep. The strong beat of her heart thumped against his aural ridge as her fingers began to trace out soothing patterns along the back of his neck.

"I'm awake." He shifted his weight off of her body as he propped himself up on a forearm, belatedly worrying if he'd been crushing her. She seemed to be no worse for the wear however, simply yawning and stretching languorously beneath the arm that still remained draped across her waist. Garrus could feel her curves through the thin fabrics of both their under-clothes as she settled back against him. Humans seemed to be somewhat firmer than asari – their flesh denser and less yielding. The discovery sent blood rushing to his cock in frantic pulses. He tried to appear nonchalant as he cleared his throat. "So... how long was I, uh..."

"Using me as a teddy bear?" One dark brow rose wickedly as she smiled up at him.

"What the hell is that?" he asked, growing somewhat alarmed at the mischievous look playing across Shepard's features. He prayed that she wasn't referring to some debauched human sex toy.

She laughed, her warm fingers dancing over his plate as she smoothed down the edge of his undersuit where it had rolled up at his shoulder. "You were only out for about ten minutes."

"Oh." He fidgeted nervously, mind racing as he tried to think of an explanation for the stunningly inappropriate things that had just happened between them and grimacing as he recalled the details. "Look, this... it won't happen again, Commander. I was out of line and–"

"_Commander_?" Her voice was incredulous. "Really? Come on Garrus, don't you remember that time we got stranded on Antibaar? I really don't think it's possible to spend three full days trapped in the Mako with someone and not come out of the experience feeling just a _bit_ less formal around them. And then of course, there was the time I had to pull that varren fang out of your ass, all the times you had to medigel mine, and my own personal favorite, the time you got really drunk and tried to– "

"I swear, Jack said it was a human drinking tradition!"

She chuckled, clearly enjoying his discomfiture. "The point is, we've been through a lot together. So stop acting like you just pissed yourself in front of a general, and start acting like my best friend, who maybe just needed me for a sec."

He relaxed as her words sunk in, feeling both hollow and elated. Thankful as he was that he hadn't offended, or otherwise ruined his reputation in her eyes, a part of him was begging for her to catch on to just how much he'd enjoyed having her astride him. He shrugged the thought aside, determined to focus on the positives of the current situation. "Best friend, huh?" He made a show of laying back down, stretching out next to her and placing his hands one at a time behind his neck.

"Glad to see that the title hasn't gone straight to your head," she said dryly, chucking his crumpled blanket at his head before flopping down beside him under her own.

Their bodies just barely touched and Garrus shivered with pleasure at the slight contact.

She eyed him speculatively. "You cold?"

"Oh, uh... no. I'm good."

"Positive? I'm a heck of a lot warmer than that sad excuse for a blanket you've got over there."

"Heh. Well, if you're offering..." He swallowed his guilt as she scooted closer to him, feeling far less ashamed than he should have for pretending his desire to touch her was nothing more than practical intent to keep warm. They fumbled around momentarily, attempting to find a position that was suitable for both of them until Shepard finally pulled him back on top of her. He looked at her in surprise.

"What?"

"Isn't this uncomfortable for you?"

"Not at all." She waited patiently for him to settle his head back down against her chest before pulling their combined blankets over the both of them and wrapping her arms tight around his neck.

Garrus counted the beats of her heart as he lay there, allowing himself to relax a bit further into the give of her body with each solid thump. _100, 200... _"Shepard?"

"Hmm," she murmured, already half asleep.

"Thank you."

He was rewarded with a warm squeeze and a drowsily uncoordinated brush of what he suspected were lips against the top of his fringe.

"Don't mention it."


	2. Chapter 2

"_...That's right ladies, gents, and asexually reproducing hanar polyps, it's DJ Joker Moreau coming to you live from WKRV Normandy Radio. Pride of the Alliance airwaves."_

Shepard groaned, throwing a hand up over her eyes as she attempted to squint them open against the bright light streaming into her face.

The telltale crackle of comm static broke the silence once more. "We've got a fantastic mix of oldies, but goodies, here for your listening pleasure today. So sit back and..."

_Shit_. She struggled harder than usual to sit up, only then recalling the heavy turian laying half on top of her, his arms locked snugly around her waist. She nudged him gently. "Garrus."

Nothing.

"Garrus?" She wriggled her torso beneath him. "Garrus, come on. We've got to get moving."

"Nottimetogetupyet," he muttered in complaining tones, his grip on her tightening obstinately.

The steady stream of Joker's voice continued to bounce loudly off the cave walls, now blathering on about something having to do with... _rescue varren?_ _Well that can't be good_. She abandoned all thoughts of escape and aimed a lift at her armor pile instead, biotically rummaging through her gear until she located the thin wristband of her inactive omnitool and pulled it to her waiting hand. "Shepard here," she said, as the device lit up over her arm.

"Jesus, Commander. We were getting ready to have the turians dispatch a search party. Where the hell are you?" The relief in the pilot's voice was audible even through the static of the connection.

"Sorry–" She broke off as Garrus repositioned his head rather distractingly, the hard plate of his face settling lower and brushing just so against her breasts. "The um, radiation storm prevented us from getting back to base last night and the cave we holed up in must have been blocking your signal. Status?"

"Ready for rendezvous. Vega and Cortez are awaiting coordinates."

"Right. Forwarding now." She reached her free arm around Garrus' neck to key their pickup location into the omnitool. "Meet you in 20."

"Copy that. See you soon. Joker out."

She waved the omnitool off and dropped her arms back down to Garrus' shoulders, which still rose and fell evenly as he slept. "What am I going to do with you?" she murmured at him, breaking into a grin as he responded to her question with a sleepy, oblivious mumble.

He looked oddly innocent there, the side of his face now smashed haphazardly into her tits. Despite the ache in her back and ribs from sleeping pressed into the hard ground underneath an almost equally hard alien, she was glad she'd kept him here with her. She'd forgotten how comforting it was to be so close to another warm body – particularly that of someone she felt so at ease with. She ran a finger down the line of his nose, noting the adorable way it wrinkled as she did so and feeling suddenly reluctant to wake him up.

As luck would have it, this time, his eyes opened immediately.

He raised his head to look at her, his fringe ruffling up in what appeared to be the turian equivalent of a yawn as he blinked rapidly. "Heyyy... Shit. What happened to your face?"

Shepard's hands flew to her cheeks and she grimaced as her palms made contact. "Ow. Oh."

"Hold on." Garrus got to his feet with surprising grace for one who had only a few moments ago been passed out cold, stalking off toward their gear.

Rummaging sounds came from behind her as she sat up, gingerly poking at her skin in an attempt to determine the extent of the damage. She hadn't had a burn this bad since N7 survival training in the Gobi, though luckily, this time the affected area didn't extend beyond her face and neck. The storm's initial radiation, which had apparently started escalating earlier than either of them had realized, had thankfully not reached levels high enough to penetrate her armor. The thought of what might have happened if Garrus hadn't warned her to put her helmet on and get to shelter in time was enough to make her cringe.

"Damn Shepard." He returned to her side, dropping down in front of her with a medigel pack in hand and surveying her critically. "You're really... red. How'd you not notice this until I pointed it out?"

She glared at him. "Oh, I don't know... Maybe because I was too busy trying to respond to Joker while pinned under a very sleepy turian?"

"Sorry. I was tired."

"I gathered that," she said wryly.

He pulled her hands away from where they were currently exploring at her ears. "Stop that. You'll only make it worse." He bit into the corner of the medigel pack, tearing the bioplastic wrapper open with practiced efficiency and squeezing the contents out into his hand. "Are we clear to return to the Normandy then?"

"Yeah. We rendezvous in– _Ohhh_. My god, that feels good." She closed her eyes, relaxing as he began to spread the cool gel across her skin with the pads of his fingers.

Garrus snorted at her reaction. "Still with me?"

"Mmm. Less talking, more fixing my face." She preemptively swept her bangs off her forehead and gathered the rest of the rather tangled mess up and out of the way for him. The almost iridescent Menae dirt, so beautiful against the horizon, had grown decidedly less thrilling now that it was coating her hair in a thin layer of grime. A shower would be more than welcome, she thought with a sigh as Garrus took her face in both hands, working the gel over her ears and repeatedly tracing out the same path across her nose, over her cheekbones, and down the line of her jaw in smooth, strong strokes. She cracked an eye open to look at him. "Garrus? I think you got that part."

He froze, looking strangely guilty. "Right. Sorry."

Releasing her immediately, he fumbled for the medigel packet he'd set down, squeezing more out and hastily treating the areas of her face that had been neglected. Roughened fingertips brushed haltingly just below her jawline and she lifted her chin automatically to give him better access, shivering as she felt his large hands move to her neck. She opened her eyes to watch him as he worked, taking in the way his brow plates were drawn low as he focused his attention on her, presumably to ensure that he wouldn't nick her by mistake since his gloves were off.

Her heart did a single, unsettling double-pound before settling back into its normal, albeit faster, rhythm. The way he was touching her here – it felt different. Gentle. As if he thought he could break her if he pressed too hard. The sad truth was that he probably could, if she ever gave him the chance. She'd witnessed the inherent strength and speed of that long, lean body of his countless times before and knew from her own training experiences that turians were terrifyingly brutal adversaries in close combat. Though humans really did have the advantage of flexibility, as well as nimble maneuverability and core strength, turians had long muscle insertions, and the all the resultant torque and velocity advantages that came with it. And in an unarmored hand-to-hand match, an unmodified human was almost surely dead; turian teeth and talons could easily pierce natural human skin while their own thickened hides made them harder to injure. Though they didn't like to admit it, this was precisely the reason why since the First Contact War, every Alliance soldier had been quietly outfitted with a basic array of genetic enhancements. The universe became a scary place once you realized there were walking, talking aliens with can openers for bodies out there.

"Shepard?"

"Yes?" Her vision slid back into focus and the image of Garrus' slightly alarmed face resolved before her. "All done?"

"Yeah but– your heart, I thought I heard..." His hand pressed into the side of her neck, fingers shifting around as he tried to find her pulse.

She dropped her hair quickly, daydreams scattering as the weight of her locks hit the back of her neck. "I'm fine. How's my face look?" She pulled his hand away to stop him from trying to feel for evidence.

"Um, shiny? Actually..." he cocked his head to the side, a devious gleam in his eyes "...you look kind of like those dancers on Omega. Remember? The ones that were covered in–"

"Hey!"

He laughed, looking not at all apologetic. "You look less red at the very least. Sorry, I should have thought to start monitoring the radiation levels the moment I saw you yesterday."

"Well, considering it's my ass that got burned, literally in this case, it's my own damn fault. Besides, once the medigel soaks in all the way it's probably going to start looking a lot better. Chakwas can take care of the rest." She pulled herself to her feet, reaching out a hand to help him up after her.

"Did Joker mention what happened with EDI?" he asked, following her over to their gear.

"No. I'll have to investigate when we get back. Regardless, I want you to do a full systems check and recalibration of the main gun, torpedoes, and GARDIAN, first thing."

He nodded. "I was thinking the same."

They fell into an easy silence as they dressed, clipping and pulling the various pieces of their armor into place beside each other. With others, this had been the problem – the transition from off-duty, to on. It was easy to make friends, but more difficult to find those who could just as easily get wasted with you on shore leave as they could snap to attention when you demanded that they respect your orders as a commanding officer. Garrus was one of a select few for whom this didn't seem to be an issue. She paused before stepping into her left boot, smiling as she noticed his now very serious face, thoughts of calibration clearly already dancing through his head. "I'm glad you're coming back with me Garrus. The main battery just doesn't feel right without you in it."

"Wouldn't be anywhere else, Shepard," he said, straightening up with both rifles in hand. He paused mid-holster. "Well, you know what I mean."

She did. A part of them both would rather be on the ground, of course, fighting for their homeworlds. "That reminds me–" she caught his arm as he turned to duck outside "–any more nightmares, and you let me know. Or Chakwas, if you'd prefer. Got it?"

He ducked his head, looking bashful.

"I mean it. I need you at your best." She took one of his hands in both of hers, in imitation of his own gesture of greeting when they'd first found each other on Menae. "And please, don't forget what I said last night. Because I meant every word."

The blue of his eyes darkened, the starry, alien pupils expanding as he looked at her. "I–" he cleared his throat "–I won't."

"Good." She bent to collect her weapons, locking them into the armor slots at her back and hip. "Wouldn't want to have to write you up for insubordination on your first day back and all."

"Heh. Empty threats, Shepard. You know I operate outside the Alliance lines." He crossed his arms with a smug expression, eyes glittering at her in challenge.

"That may be. But I'm pretty sure I read somewhere in the Spectre manual that I've got Council authorization to torture whomever I see fit." She leaned in on tiptoe to whisper provocatively in his ear, her lips millimeters from the strange indentation that marked the organ. "And I know where you sleep, Vakarian."

Shepard pulled away, smirking, the satisfying sight of Garrus' open-mouthed face fresh in her mind as she tugged her helmet on and walked out into the bright morning light of a new day. For the first time since the attack on Earth, she felt something other than frantic desperation coursing through her veins.

Hope. That's what it was. He gave her hope.

* * *

_A/N: The next chapter was to be published along with these... however I managed to drop my laptop into the Atlantic Ocean this weekend, effectively ruining this plan. A rewrite of the lost content will occur just as soon as I'm able to come to terms with the fact that I'm an idiot and didn't back up my saves anywhere.  
_


	3. Original One-Shot

_A/N: Original one-shot story. **This is not a continuation of the previous chapters**.  
_

* * *

"Dammit." Shepard swung the barrel of her Paladin around, firing a shot into the skull of a last staggering husk. "Joker? We're ready for that evac anytime now."

"Ha– " staccato bursts of white noise interrupted. "Comman– EDI's offline." Joker's voice broke off into a long hiss of static.

Shepard sighed, pushing her communicator harder against her ear as she waved the all-clear to Garrus. He looked worn, she realized, feeling concern creep into her expression. "Hey, looks like we'll be hanging here for a bit," she shouted over the wind as he drew closer, proceeding to fill him in on the Normandy situation.

"Heh. Well at least we got Victus off safely." Garrus sat down heavily and looked up at the darkening sky.

Shepard's gaze followed, noting the almost indistinguishable area of Palaven that the turian had previously pointed out as his home. It was a wonder she could make it out at all. The whole planet was ablaze.

She knocked his shoulder plate with her armor-clad knee, an attempt to distract them both from the unsettling sight. "Alright soldier, I'm getting windburn. Back to base."

He looked up at her with an unfocused expression.

"Garrus?"

"Not gonna happen Commander." He turned his face into the wind, eyes closing and mandibles flaring as he seemed to sniff the air.

Shepard raised one brow in question, realizing that her skin felt oddly tight as she did so.

"Radiation storm's brewing." Garrus' subvocals were suddenly teasing as he bent to grab his rifle and nodded at Shepard's helmet. "Better put that back on. It's time to find some shelter before that soft human skin of yours gets fried."

She rolled her eyes, but complied – carelessly shoving her shoulder-length hair off her face and tugging her N7 helmet back on. "You turians. We all know you only rag on how soft we are 'cause you're jealous of our i_flexibility_/i." The corner of her mouth twitched up as Garrus' bright blue eyes widened fractionally.

"Never gonna live that one down, huh?"

She gave him a playful punch. "Nope."

– – – – –

They managed to scan for a shielded cave just a few meters east of their location. Already inside, Shepard began unloading her weapons into a neat row. She absentmindedly watched as Garrus squeezed his large form through the small opening, chuckling softly when the collar of his armor wedged for a moment. She forgot just how big he was sometimes, recalling that the last time she'd had such a thought, she'd found herself on the receiving end of a crushing hug – her t-shirt clad torso completely enveloped by blue, and bruising, armor. Garrus had decided to try out "that arm wrap thing you humans do" as they said their farewells just a few months ago, in front of her favorite weapons store on the Citadel.

_ You call me if the Alliance requests a character reference." Garrus feigned nonchalance as he continued, "the Shadowbroker tells me Archangel's name carries a lot of weight these days." _

_ "I'm not sure the testimony of a vigilante turian would be the __**best**__ defense for me... but thanks Garrus. I appreciate it." She pried herself away from his grasp with a huff. "You might want to tone down the force on that hug just a tad before you go testing it out on any other unsuspecting members of my species. Not all of us have the benefits of a Project Lazarus rebuild." She reached her left hand up to her right shoulder and gave it an exaggerated roll. _

_ "No worries Commander." Garrus gave her a wink. "You know, I'm really more of a one human kind of turian." _

_ Shepard returned his smile – or rather, his mandible spread – as she turned to walk away, missing the slight tremor of his face plates as he watched her leave. _

"I'm glad you find this predicament so amusing," Garrus said with a pained expression, drawing Shepard's thoughts back to the present. He was still firmly jammed between the rocks the framed the narrow cave opening.

Realizing that she'd broken into a wide grin, Shepard stood with a laugh, brushing silvery dirt from her black and red armor and striding over to assess the situation. She blinked up at him innocently. "Need a hand Vakarian?"

"You're so lucky I can't reach my rifle right now." Garrus took a swipe at her with his free arm as she jumped back with a yelp and a peal of laughter.

"Ok, ok. Stop wiggling. You're making it worse." Shepard put her hands up, in truce. "Like I'd leave you in there all night. Who'd make me dinner?" She gave him a sly smile.

"Shepard." Garrus sighed. "You haven't changed one bit."

She patted his arm comfortingly and smiled into his eyes. "Aw, I missed you too, Garrus."

– – – – –

Garrus' mandibles flared at the intimacy of Shepard's contact. Her gloved hands were currently resting at his waist as she considered how best to pull him free. He swallowed and glanced down at the top of her head. She probably had no idea what this sort of touch would signify in turian culture.

"Ah!" she muttered under her breath as she twisted his torso with a quick jerk. Garrus suddenly found himself free and staggering forward to balance his weight before he toppled into his commanding officer.

_ His commander_. Garrus' chest swelled with pride at the memory of Shepard's invitation to rejoin her on the Normandy just few hours prior. Though it had only been a few months of separation, he, assuming his surprising new role as head of the Reaper Task Force and she, back on Earth, he'd worried at the lack of contact. She didn't write and he'd been too nervous to, thinking she might have resumed her relationship with Alenko and cowardly, preferring to live in ignorance if that were the case. He shook his head slightly as he pushed the thought aside. It was no matter. He and Shepard were friends and nothing more. A few flirtatious conversations did not a romance make.

Unthinkingly, Garrus' pressed his talons to his still lightly scarred face plate, reminding him of the inequity in their physical appearances. She was beautiful. With those indigo eyes and that darkly gleaming fringe, inky as the midnight skies of Palaven, she could have any human she wanted. Hell, she could have quite a pick of turians too. On multiple occasions, Garrus had seen the males of his species glance at the commander's slender waist and blazing eyes. Shepard's anatomy was not unlike that of the asari, and the turians had long been familiar with and appreciative of the exaggerated femininity of their blue curves.

"Phew." Shepard exhaled in long huff. "You as exhausted as I am Vakarian?" She had resumed her position by her weapons and was proceeding to toss her armor, piece by piece, into a heap directly to the right of her sniper rifle.

Garrus couldn't help shaking his head in amusement at the contrast between the precisely laid out weapons and the haphazard pile of her armor. He studied her face momentarily before responding. "You do look whiter than usual–"

Shepard snorted, laughing. "Thanks. Just what every girl wants to hear. I'll admit, I have been a little neglectful of my tanning schedule."

"Um... what?" Garrus paused, checking the readout of his visor as his translator pulled up information on _tanning_. "Oh..." his voice trailed off as he continued reading. "Wait, your world enslaved people based on their colors?" He looked up in confusion.

Shepard sighed, wiping at the sheen of sweat that had settled across her brow with the back of her hand. "Yeah, not our finest moment. Good thing we hadn't met any asari back then. Considering how worked up we got over shades of brown, who knows what the reaction to blue would have been."

Garrus had pulled off his visor, turning his attention to Shepard as she spoke. His sharp senses focused on her face, noting the lack of pink in her cheeks that he'd become accustomed to, and the slower than usual pounding of her heart. His eyebrow ridges lowered with worry. "I think you overdid it with all that charging. You know, you don't need to take out every husk that approaches the vicinity with your biotics. I may be just a humble sniper but I do have _some_ experience with close range enemies." He shook his head mockingly.

Shepard flashed him a smile. "Yeah, but it's more fun my way. I like to keep things fresh; a little shooting, a little shockwave here and there... come on Garrus, don't you appreciate the artistry of my combat style?"

He did, actually. Garrus had been captivated with the sight of Shepard in battle from the first. She was fierce and fearless and seemed to have the uncanny ability to be everywhere all at once. Impossibly fast, pulsing blue with biotic energy, and firing shots off with an aim that rivaled his own, the commander reminded him of the ancient turian legends of female war spirits. _Tempests, _they were called, named for their destructiveness and their heartbreaking beauty in combat. In the old tales, they roamed battlefields, weighing the worthiness of wounded soldiers. If you were deemed honorable and true, worthy of their loyalty, the tempest would stay with you – slaying your foes and protecting you from harm.

He wondered, if he were a broken man, how would Shepard judge him?

Garrus' coughed awkwardly, aware that he'd been silent a few moments too long. "Slow heart rate, low body temp, rapid respiration... I'd say you need something to eat."

"You know, years later and it's_ still _creepy when you use your super-predator senses on me." Shepard arranged her face into an expression of mock consternation. "And here I thought I was your friend, not food."

He gave her his best imitation of a grin. "That remains to be seen."

– – – – –

In the end, the turian made a hearty meal, devouring a dextro-protein pack and watching the human by his side do the same with a nutrition pack of her own. _Nothing like generating your own mass effect fields to stoke the appetite_, Garrus mused, watching as Shepard enthusiastically consumed a biotic sugar booster as a second course. He surreptitiously reevaluated her vitals; her heart sounded steady and well-paced once more.

He sat back, muscles slowly relaxing. He hadn't realized he'd been so tense. Night was falling now, the air cooling rapidly in the fading light, and still no contact from the Normandy. _Might as well make myself comfortable then_, Garrus thought, somewhat nervously unlatching the chest plate of his armor. He didn't think Shepard had ever seen him out of it.

The commander had ordered Joker and Liara to investigate Edi's malfunction and report back as soon as they were capable of rendezvous. However, it looked like that might not be possible until morning. By then, the storm should have passed and Shepard's armor would once more provide sufficient protection from Menae's normal radiation levels. They could return to base and request transport back to the Normandy in a turian shuttle if necessary. He felt anxious to get away. It was selfish to be safely holed up in this crevice of rock while his comrades battled and burned. He stared into the fire blankly, trying desperately not to think about his father and sister. _Spirits save them_, he hoped they'd gotten off-planet in time.

Garrus pulled off his greaves last, setting them down by the rest of the gear he'd piled opposite to Shepard's. He felt self-conscious in his close-fitting black and silver undersuit, which bared his collar and legs from spurs down. It was foolish really. He'd spent half his life in military barracks and was well used to close-quarters and a lack of privacy. Of course, he'd never been in such a situation with Shepard before.

Seated before their small chemical fire, back braced against the cave wall, her eyes gleamed orange as she intently read off her omnitool's holographic display. Garrus' gaze followed the lines of her body. She was clad in the standard regulation under-clothing that most Alliance soldiers wore beneath their armor and during athletic training sessions. "Underarmor," she'd called it. The formfitting top piece revealed the entirety of her lean arms and the sharp bones that slashed horizontally below the column of her neck. The bottom, ending a short distance below the curve of her backside, hugged her hips. Rather than the black he'd always seen her in before, this underarmor was a cobalt blue, the exact shade of his markings, he realized. A shiver ran through his body. He liked seeing her in his colors; the blue against her skin made it all too easy to imagine that she was his.

Garrus sighed, dropping to the ground and pulling up his omnitool to check for messages before bunking down for the night. The sound of running water echoed from from far off, just barely loud enough for him to detect. It was soothing and he felt his eyelids grow heavy as the gentle trickle lulled him to sleep.

– – – – – –

_ Falling, dying – they were all around him, crying out as blue blood bubbled grotesquely from their throats and dripped down their mandibles. He pulled his rifle from his back in a smooth, practiced motion, his legs heavy as he lunged forward to help. Faster, faster. The air around him was thick and viscous. He struggled to move against its bulk, unable to draw the dense atmosphere into his lungs. He stilled, calm setting in as he lifted his rifle as he'd done so many times before. His aim was careful and precise as he lined up the shot, a talon on the trigger. Faster, faster. He pulled, squeezing with all his might against metal that would not budge. He couldn't fire. He roared in rage and he stood by helpless, watching. _

– – – – – –

Shepard's eyes flew open, pupils slowly adjusting to the warm glow of firelight reflecting off the cave's close walls. She shook her hair out of her eyes as she propped herself up on both elbows, scanning the cave. She could have sworn she'd heard something.

Garrus lay to her left, just out of arm's reach. He had shifted towards her during the night and his thermal blanket was now twisted in a complicated tangle around his heavy limbs. She frowned as she watched his chest rise and fall unevenly. _Was that normal?_

He shook his head restlessly and cried out, startling her.

_ Guess I'm not the only one having trouble sleeping these days, _Shepard thought grimly, reaching over to shake his arm. "Garrus. Wake up." He thrashed again and with a sharp inhale she snatched her hand back, looking down to see blood welling from a shallow cut along her forearm. Her mouth quirked in amusement. Apparently even a sleeping turian was hazardous.

She did the practical thing and pinned him in a straddle, sitting on his chest and trapping both arms against his sides with her legs. He was mumbling something now, but she couldn't make it out.

"Garrus." Holding his face with both hands, she patted firmly as she tried to rouse him. He felt like leather and his toughened skin glinted silver and bronze in the flickering light. Perhaps it was odd – she didn't really know as she'd never asked any other humans their opinion on the matter – but she'd found turians fascinating from the first. They looked so stoic and statuesque. As if they'd been sculpted from granite and steel. Of course, in Garrus' case, that first impression had dissolved as soon as he'd opened his mouth. She smiled, remembering; beneath that stern exterior, he was pretty damn adorable, what with his stammering awkwardness and teasing humor. Shepard's face sobered as she touched his scarred plate gently, running her thumb automatically over the raised lines. Garrus, she realized, was the closest thing she had to a best friend in this whole galaxy. She wanted to save it for him. Or maybe she wanted so save him, from it.

Garrus tensed suddenly underneath her, eyes opening.

"Hey. Welcome back to the land of the living." Shepard pulled her hands back, suddenly unsure of what to do with them. She eventually settled for placing them at the juncture between his cowl and chest.

"Shepard..." Garrus' eyes swept her face, blinking in confusion and then, casting downward in embarrassed realization. "I – um... Sorry. I guess I was dreaming."

"No need to apologize. I was just worried. It didn't sound like a fun dream, exactly."

His jaw clenched as she spoke and he turned his face away from her, staring resolutely at the cave wall with trembling mandibles.

Shepard felt her heart sink as she watched him. She knew this feeling – the helpless horror that came after a nightmare. It hurt to see her friend suffering through it. "Garrus," she murmured, her voice came out soft and throaty, surprising her with the emotion it carried. "Don't. I want to help." Her hands rose to cup his face once more and pull it back to hers, fingers freezing as they touched wet plate, lips parting slightly in surprise. She'd always wondered if turians could cry.

For a long moment, he lay stiff and unmoving, his fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, Shepard wondered if she'd upset him further by touching him like this. But as she began to pull away she felt his cheek follow her palm, pressing into the curve of her hand of its own accord. He whispered, voice hitching, "They were dying. All of them. And I couldn't– " his eyes squeezed shut, as if in pain, "I couldn't– ."

"Shh," she gentled, thumbs stroking his face plates once more. She leaned forward, placing her lips firmly against his forehead as she continued to speak. "It wasn't real." The hard body beneath her shuddered and a feeling of fierce protectiveness shot through her veins as she wrapped her arms tight as she could manage around Garrus' trembling form. "I'm here. I won't let anything happen."

_– – – – –  
_

"Shepard– " Garrus' voice muffled as he buried his face in her neck and he reached up, grasping lamely at her soft form for comfort. She felt so good. Warm and safe and a welcome distraction from the sick feeling that had knotted in his stomach as he slept. He felt her hands leave his face – though her lips maintained their pressure at his forehead – and pull his own to her waist, molding them around her. His large hands almost completely encircled her there, a reminder of her delicacy even as he felt the firm strength of her body in her legs, which still squeezed at his sides. For some reason, that detail broke him, and his body shook with silent tears as he gave himself over entirely to Shepard's protection. She held him tighter as he sobbed into her, only pulling away from him to place a kiss against his scarred plate when his breathing was even once more.

_– – – – –_

Garrus awoke some time later, sprawled on his stomach and blinking in sleepy contentment at the warmth of the pillow beneath his head. He rubbed his plated cheek against the softness, a satisfied rumble escaping him – it smelled like Shepard.

_Shepard. __Menae. Cave._ He froze, awareness flooding him in a cold rush. The commander was spread out beside... and below him. His head rose and fell with her slow, steady breathing – the entire left side of his face pressed to her chest and the top of his fringe tucked tight beneath her chin. His right arm was slung across her body, hugging her torso to him as if she were a piece of bedding, rather than a battle-hardened Spectre. The smooth skin exposed by the low neckline of her clothing felt oddly damp beneath his cheek.

_Shit! Was he drooling on her? _After a moment of sheer panic, he realized that this particular wetness was a result of tears. His breath escaped in a grateful exhale. Crying all over one's commanding officer was about as much embarrassment as he could stomach for the moment.

"Garrus?" Shepard spoke softly, though her voice was steady and alert. Clearly, she had not been asleep. The strong beat of her heart thumped against his ear as her fingers began to trace out soothing patterns along the back of his neck.

"I'm awake." He shifted his weight off of her body as he propped himself up on a forearm, belatedly worrying if he'd been crushing her. She seemed to be no worse for the wear, however, simply yawning and stretching languorously beneath the arm that still remained draped across her waist. Garrus could feel her curves through the thin fabrics of both their under-clothes as she settled back against him. Humans seemed to be somewhat firmer than asari – their flesh denser and less yielding. The discovery sent blood rushing to his cock in frantic pulses. He tried to appear nonchalant as he cleared his throat. "So... how long was I um..." his voice trailed off lamely.

"Using me as a teddy bear?" One dark brow rose wickedly as she smiled up at him.

"What the hell is that?" he asked, growing somewhat alarmed at the mischievous look playing across Shepard's face. He prayed that she wasn't referring to some debauched human sex toy.

Shepard laughed, her warm fingers dancing over his plate as she smoothed down the edge of his undersuit where it had rolled up at his shoulder. "You were only out for about ten minutes."

"Oh." He reluctantly pulled his arm from her waist. "Look, I'm really sorry about all of this." He searched Shepard's face for the signs of disgust or annoyance he was sure he'd find there, but discovering only the clear, jewel-tones of her irises as she gazed steadily at him.

"We're friends." She punctuated her words with a dismissive shrug.

Garrus stiffened. _Right. Friends._ It had been far too easy to forget what they really were with Shepard's warm body pressed against his in the coolness of the night. He swallowed, mouth dry as he remembered the feel of her hands on his face, her lips on his plate as she kissed away his nightmare.

His heart twisted in his chest. It hurt to be near her like this; she was so tantalizingly close yet still out of reach. His mandibles snapped tight against his jaw in frustration.

Shepard immediately noticed his expression. "Garrus..." She reached for him as if to caress his scarred plate comfortingly, as she'd done before.

He suddenly had no patience for her meaningless gestures of intimacy. It wasn't right to tease him like this. It wasn't right to offer him the comfort of her body one minute and to smile and declare them just friends in the next. He snatched up both her wrists, pinning the slender bones together in one hand to prevent her from touching him. "Stop it, Shepard."

She made no attempt to free herself, the dark frame of her lashes simply widening as she regarded him silently.

_Spirits, she was beautiful_, Garrus thought, watching as the black and violet of her eyes grew, like unfurling flowers, dominating her face as she gazed up at him. Garrus' hand tightened around her wrists. "I can't take this anymore," he whispered, fiercely. If you want to be just friends, then fine, let's be friends. Just– you need to stop touching me. I can't take you touching me."

– – – – –

Shepard blinked – once, twice – her jaw dropping in surprise. She made an attempt to both close it and say something fitting at the same time, feeling bizarrely as though she'd just been spaced and had no air with which to form words. Garrus released her suddenly, a dark expression on his face as he began to turn away from her.

"Wait!" She grabbed at his shoulder, pushing herself up into a sitting position as a low rumble rose from somewhere deep in his turian's chest. It was all the warning she had before he rushed her, seizing her wrists once more and trapping them between his body and hers. Shepard fell back roughly, pinned beneath him. "But, I– I didn't know," she stammered. _I didn't know you cared for me. Not like this. _

Garrus snorted, shaking his head in what seemed like disgust.

"No listen! I know I've flirted with you. I just – I never realized that you wanted to take it further. I thought that turians looked down on relationships within a unit."

It was Garrus' turn to look surprised. "How could you possibly think that?" He gave her wrists a small shake for emphasis. "I told you about– "

"What?" Shepard expertly broke his grip, shoving at him in frustration. "You told me about what? Fucking and blowing off steam? I don't do things halfway. If I start something with someone, I want more than _sparring._" She pronounced the last word as if it was something distasteful. And as far as the two of them were concerned, Shepard was convinced that it was.

Garrus Vakarian was not a fling. Not to her.

His gunmetal blue eyes shot to hers, mandibles falling slack. "I didn't mean that. I never meant that."

Shepard felt her cheeks begin to burn and she looked down. A lock of hair had fallen into her eyes and was tickling the bridge of her nose. She blew up at it in annoyance.

Garrus' voice was hesitant. "Do you really want more? Than... sparring?"

Four thudding heartbeats passed before Shepard found she could speak. "You're all I have," she whispered. "I didn't want to mess us up. I liked having someone I could always trust."

She watched him warily from beneath her lashes, unsure of his response. His talons brushed across her forehead to clumsily tuck the hair there behind her ear. She shivered, feeling oh-so-vulnerable beneath his hard gaze and suddenly intensely aware of the dangerous strength of his body.

He pressed his rough forehead hesitantly to hers, closing his eyes as he spoke. "You could never do that. I was yours from the first."

– – – – –

Garrus breathed deeply, savoring the complicated notes of Shepard's scent as he lingered against her. She smelled... like home. Like something he had been waiting an eternity to return to. His mouth brushed hers, in the human way, and he felt her inhale sharply, her body trembling beneath his. Lips softened against the plate of his mouth and she pulled him more firmly to her, angling his head to allow her smooth tongue to dart against his in small flashes of intimacy.

His plates practically fell open as his rigid cock emerged. He allowed himself to vocalize his frustration, growling his arousal to her as he lapped at the sweet taste of her parted lips. The taut, sinuous curves that he'd admired from afar for so long were finally his to explore. He took full advantage, running his hands over the swell of her hips, the lush firmness of her backside, and the delicate bones that twisted beneath her skin as she pressed herself to him.

Shepard broke the kiss and suddenly pulled back to study his face, tracing the lines of his markings with gentle fingers. "You're breathtaking," she murmured, capturing his eyes with hers.

His face grew warm under her gaze. And he, grew bolder, feeling empowered by her words.

She ducked her head beneath his chin and urged it upwards, placing small kisses as she went. Soon, he was lost to the sensation of her hot breath burning against the sensitive underside of his jaw and throat. He groaned, finally bowing his head to mirror her attentions. Taking care not to break her delicate skin, he raked his teeth along the smooth curve of her neck, following the delicate cords of her tendons with his roughened tongue. Soft breasts pressed up against him and he ran a talon over the hardened nubs visible beneath the blue of her underarmor.

"Off," he demanded, pulling her up into a sitting position so that he could peel the fabric over her head.

Shepard lifted her arms in compliance, reaching for the fastenings of his own undersuit as soon as she was bared to him. The firm swells of her breasts bounced enticingly as she moved to undress him and Garrus watched her, entranced. They were generously curved, her breasts, the tops decorated with a smattering of the light brown dots that he'd come to love sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. The skin here seemed even silkier, and each soft handful was crested with one delicate pink peak. Her breath caught when he touched her, eyes closing and lashes casting shadows against creamy skin as he ran a rough thumb in circles over each mound. His sharp talons were a wicked contrast against her unprotected skin and his mandibles flared wide with the realization of the trust that this implied.

"Take off your clothes," she whispered, glancing suggestively down at the bulge between his legs while she pulled at the opened edges of his undersuit.

He had it off in seconds. A few fabric-tangled talons later, and so was the bottom piece of hers. Possessive hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her to him as his tongue flicked harshly across the tight buds of her breasts. He watched with satisfaction as she sighed and arched beneath his grasp.

Shepard reached down to wrap a shockingly small hand around his thick length, her soft palm gliding across the shaft experimentally. "Is this... ok?"

"Harder." Garrus groaned his approval as she adjusted her grip. This seemed to encourage her to pump her hand more quickly over him as she pushed him to ground and settled herself between his legs. He swallowed thickly in anticipation as she lowered her reddened lips to the tip of his cock. A pleasured sigh escaped him as she drew him in. Her mouth felt warmer and wetter here than it had against his own and he inhaled sharply as she sucked him, allowing her lips to slide farther down his length. His hips snapped forward, driving him deeper into the luxurious sensation as he throbbed with the painful desire that was building against the motions of her tongue. It was too much to bear.

Reluctantly pulling free of her mouth, Garrus dragged her satin-and-steel form against the ridges of his torso, rolling to pin her beneath him. Her legs parted immediately and she wrapped them seductively over the tops of his hips as she opened herself to him, reaching up to stroke his fringe at the same time. Garrus allowed his head to drop forward to her chest. His eyes closed in pleasure as he offered her better access.

"Do you like that?" she whispered, pressing her soft body against his as she continued to caress him.

"Spirits, yes," he moaned, suddenly unable to move for fear that the wonderful things she was doing to him would stop. He managed to focus himself enough to recall his task, parting the velvety folds at the juncture of her thighs and quickly locating the small nub he knew to find hidden at the apex. Her breathing quickened as he massaged her, taking care not to slice the delicate flesh with his sharp talons. A knuckle traveled downward, pressing into her wet slit until he found the small opening he sought. Her legs clamped about his waist, thighs trembling as he used the pad of his thumb to rub the sensitive bud while slowly fucking her with a bent forefinger.

The vids had not prepared him for this. She was so tight. So wet. So unlike any woman he'd been with before. Garrus shuddered as he imagined her moist heat enveloping him as she contracted around his cock rather than his finger and he felt his resolve to pleasure her fully, before his own needs were met, break. Fumbling, he frantically tried to position himself against her slick opening. Shepard shifted in wordless response, helping him to find the right angle. He gripped her tightly, feeling the hard bones of her hips beneath his hands as her softness began to stretch to accommodate his girth. The dark slashes of her brows furrowed together as he began to enter and she gasped, burying her face in his neck as her body tensed suddenly.

Garrus caught her beneath the chin, forcing her to look at him. "I'll go slow," he promised, aware that evolution had not designed for him to fit her as a human male would. He watched her carefully as he pressed forward, searching for the signs of discomfort that she would never willingly admit, and finally feeling her relax when he was deep within her. Knowing full well that her folds were parted to accommodate his cock, he ground his hips against her teasingly, exposing her sensitive bud to the direct contact. A bright flush blossomed across her cheeks and she shuddered, wriggling against him, seemingly desperate for more. He held himself unmoving within her as he lifted his hands to pinch and lick the rosy tips of her breasts, ignoring her husky cries until she finally called his name.

"Oh, please... Garrus!" she begged. Her hands clutched at his fringe, eyes wild and dark with desire.

It was all the permission he needed. Garrus pulled out completely, thrusting roughly back into her wet, tight warmth as his body trembled with tension. Her breasts bounced as he pounded into her with increasing speed, burying his entire length with each thrust. He watched himself fuck her – wanting to see how Shepard's folds were spread open for him, wanting to see how well he filled her. A hand returned to the juncture of her legs, kneading and rubbing at the now swollen bud until she began to drip with desire. She pulled him forward to cover her body with his again, begging for his tongue on her neck, her lips, her nipples – begging him to take her harder.

"Come for me, Shepard," he groaned into her mouth.

He felt himself unraveling, struggling to keep his pace as his cock pulsed with the hard throbbing that preceded his release. Shepard gasped, tensing and arching beneath him and Garrus was suddenly overwhelmed with sensation, unprepared for the rhythmic contractions that gripped him as she peaked. She clenched around him even as he continued to drive into her, only slowing when he felt his own violent surges overtake him. He filled her to overflowing, pumping his release into her sweet body until finally, he had nothing left to give.

– – – – –

Shepard felt her breathing slow as Garrus tucked her to him, his hard arms wrapped tight around her beneath their combined thermal blankets. His heart pounded out a comforting, solid rhythm against her back. She ran her fingers along the heavy forearm encircling her waist realizing that for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.

"Garrus?" She turned, nestling her body into his chest as she looked up at him. "Are you ok?"

He looked at her for a long while, smoothing her hair back from her face gently before speaking. "My tempest has judged me worthy. How could I not be?"

_End  
_


End file.
